


the march of the living

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12504964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: Fills for the Shuake Halloween Week.Day 2: Trick or Treat





	1. Shapeshifter

Monday evenings are the slowest. The customers trickle out before sunset, leaving Akira to watch the clock tick by, telling himself that he'll start his homework any minute now, _really_.

Monday evenings are when even Sojiro decides to go home early, trusting Akira to clean up.

 

Akira's borrowed some manga from Ryuji for this particular Monday evening. Some gory violent thing he's heard classmates talk about years back, that he meant to pick up but never did until now.

He's barely done with the first chapter when the bell rings and Goro Akechi, ace detective extraordinaire, walks into LeBlanc.

"Did I come at a bad time?" He asks, looking around the empty shop.

Akira shakes his head. "Just a bit slow right now."

"Oh? Then I hope you don't mind me changing that." Akechi says, stepping forward and pulling up a seat. "The regular, please."

 

The coffee making process is complicated, especially without a machine. It's relaxing enough for Akira's attention to wander during the slow pour over, the steady drip.

Akechi's has too, if the numerous glances to Akira's abandoned manga are any indication.

"Interested?" Akira asks when he's done, passing him his cup. He replaces it with a rag, starting to wipe his workspace clean.

"I'm afraid I have little interest in the macabre."

Akira's hand stills, he looks up from his counter. "Because all the stuff you see at your job?"

Akechi smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Something like that."

There's an awkward, almost oppressive silence that follows. Akira is content to let this one be, to not push his luck any further—when Akechi speaks.

 

"They represents greed," he says, delicately lifting his cup for a sip.

"Hm?"

"Ghouls," Akechi clarifies. "The mythological ones at least." He takes another sip, looking up at Akira in a way that makes his stomach do backflips.

The rag is long forgotten. Sojiro's annoyance with him in the morning: certain.

The thing with Akechi is that he's dangerous. Akira knows it.

 

Akechi weaponizes small talk. He dangles conversation threads like fish hooks.

He waits patiently, placid smile pasted on. There are multiple lines dangling from his boat. And Akechi watches each one with sharp eyes, ready to pounce on the slightest hint of tension.

If he was smart, Akira would stay away. If he'd had any self-preservation, he'd shut the other out the moment he heard of his profession.

But the truth is that Akira is neither. He's nothing more than a high school boy mooning after the fantasy of a handsome celebrity noticing him—not the criminal record nor the false meekness. Noticing _Akira_ and telling him that he's amazing.

 

He's nothing more than delusional, clinging to shards of similarities in hopes that what they forge, whatever it is, is meaningful.

 _Salmon swim upstream_ , Akechi had told him once, face resting on his palm, pinky brushing his lips. _Because like us, they want to go to that one place they belong._

Akira is Narcissus in front of his reflection, unable to look away.

 

"Tell me more," he says, his fingers running circles through his own locks.

Akechi lips quirk into a smile and Akira, unconsciously, leans forward.

"The original Ghouls, the ones from Arabic folklore, are a subset of Djinn—"

"Like in Aladdin?"

"Not quite. Djinn are shapeshifters, able to change their form at will. Ghoul use it to lure in their prey, devour them, and take their prey's form for their own."

"And the greed thing?"

Akechi winks, a finger pressed in front of his lips. "I'm working my way there."

 

"You see," he continues. "All ghouls know how to do is devour; they have all they need and yet they take and take and take. Not only their victim's flesh but their riches and position as well."

"They are hated on principle," Goro's voice shifts, his gaze far away. "But they still get everything."

"Sounds awful." It's all Akira can offer.

Akechi turns away, cutting him loose. "Yes," he says. "It is."


	2. Day 2: Trick or Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully lighter on the pretentiousness this time, trying to make these two total exactly 1337 words

"Umaibo isn't candy," Goro says, pulling the shopping cart away before Akira can even put a pre-packaged stick in.

"Don't worry," Akira's reply is accompanied by a step forward. "These are for me."

"All twenty of them?"

Akira shrugs. "I'm stocking up. All the snacks at your place are boring."

Goro sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he relents. "But make sure to get three of the Yakitori ones."

"Already done," Akira says, immediately dumping everything in his arms into Goro's cart.

 

* * *

 

After everything's said and done, Akira moves back home for his final year of high school. It's a bit lonely without his friends, a bit empty without the hustle and bustle of the city, but he had dragged his boyfriend out into the sticks with him, which had to count for something.

Back then, Goro was _conflicted_ to say the least. His previously atrophied sense of justice warred with self-preservation; lack of evidence tempered by his desire to put everything behind him.

There would have been people disappointed, angry even, regardless of which choice he made. The evidence he procured was more than enough to put away Shido. It was far too little as a peace offering for Sae-san, however, who may have been willing to reduce Goro's sentence, but not let him off scot-free.

The more Goro had thought about it, the more he wished he didn't care. _What could have been_ s and _what should be_ s ran wild in his mind, clashing over and over, steel against steel, until Goro downed a couple of pills and retired for the night.

It was then that Akira had shown up unarmed, his mere presence putting everything to a halt. _Come with me,_ he said, hand outstretched.

Goro found it impossible to refuse.

 

He has another apartment now, much smaller, but cozier as well, Akira using up the extra space to store and increasing collection of memorabilia and knick knacks, laughing whenever Goro complained.

Their plan was to go to college in Tokyo together, Goro making good use of his gap year to bring Akira's grades up to par. One Akira's parents themselves surprisingly approved of, their only condition was that they didn't move in together before Akira finished high school.

Until then, they would still be together, Akira merely staying over a couple of days each week instead. And while Goro was content to wait things out, leave the moment Akira had graduation papers in his hands; he realized the importance of acclimatizing himself to Akira's hometown.

Akira, himself, had an endless list of options. Most of them were fairly flashy, no doubt a result of his temporary stint as a phantom thief, as well as his own disappointment at the lack of a _prodigal son returns_ styled welcoming party.

 

He was flipping through channels one afternoon, head resting on Goro's shoulder, when he came across what he described as 'the perfect idea'.

Trick or treating, to make it simple. An American tradition dedicated to disturbing neighbors and hoarding unnecessary amounts of candy.

Unsurprisingly, Akira loved it.

 

He planned it out, sketching out of map of the neighborhood, talking about how many people he could drag in to make a proper route. Goro watches him entranced, these remnants of the man who planned infiltration mission after infiltration mission, only shaken out of his thoughts when the very same man suggests couples costumes.

The night of the 31st comes soon enough. Goro has a child on each side, both gripping his hands tight. Akira walks ahead, making transformation poses for the benefit of his own entourage of anklebiters. There are chaperones behind them, classmates that Akira had recruited, their footsteps growing softer the closer Goro gets to Akira.

"Not a bad idea, huh?" Akira murmurs when Goro is next to him, steps matching his own.

Goro smiles, looking up at the night sky. In Tokyo, the city lights drowned out everything else. Here, he can see it all. Only Akira, shining bright besides him, remains a constant.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu on twitter @deskbot00


End file.
